Harmony with God's Plan
by yourmirroroferised
Summary: Admiral Adama can't escape his dream. What will it do to him? Angst Romance. Adama/Roslin
1. Prologue

22:00 Hours

Bill had been lying in his rack for an hour now, trying, willing himself to clear his mind before he surrendered to sleep. He couldn't bear to go through that dream again. Once more and the stoic admiral knew even he would lose his mind. One more plunge into this dream world that haunted him, and he knew he would not be able to slog through another day with this shadow world stalking him.

But the frantic clamor in his head ironically sped his rapid sinking into sleep.


	2. Life is a Melody

A/N I'm going to be publishing the chapters rapidly, since they are so short.

Disclaimer: RDM owns all of these characters and settings.

0800 Hours

That Morning:

"Gods, Bill!" Tigh barked, storming into the Admiral's quarters, "You are a whole frakking hour late to your shift in the CIC! What the frak is wrong with you?"

Adama felt like a drowning man pulled out at the last second. His mind was still water logged as he scraped the stubble from his face and stepped into his uniform.

"I swear to gods, Bill," Tigh muttered, an hour overdue for sleep, "You've been off your game before, but these past few weeks are beyond anything I've seen."

"I'm fine, Saul," Bill hacked, his voice even more gravel and grit than usual, "It won't happen again," he paused at the entrance to the CIC, and turned, "Don't bring it up again."

Saul was taken aback at his snap in tone. Bill rarely reprimanded him, and never in public. This was going to be a long shift for the CIC

1300 Hours

"Admiral!" Dualla sounded as if she had said his name several times. "It's the President, she's asking for you."

Adama grasped the receiver like a life-line and jerked it up to his ear, "Madam President."

"Admiral, I am still waiting for my report on the condition of the Sagittaron refugees and their supplies aboard the Galactica."

"I have yet to review Lieutenant Helo's report on the matter," Adama responded formally, "I will have it for you tomorrow. Goodbye-" he began his dismissal.

"Bill," She interrupted, her voice no longer pure professionalism, she was worried, "You've been avoiding me. What's going on?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Madam President" Adama deadpanned.

"Well then, Admiral," I would like to meet with you this evening to go over a few pressing issues that need to be addressed as soon as possible." Her tone was not a question.

Admiral Adama was silent, gritting his teeth.

"I'll be there at 1900 hours, Admiral." He tone was now dangerously cold.


	3. A Rhythm of Notes

1700 Hours

Captain Adama was in the Admiral's quarters reporting in his capacity as CAG. However, after his father had spent five minutes reading the same line in his latest report on the pilots training, he decided to say something.

"Dad, Saul Tigh talked to me this afternoon." He began, tensely. He knew that he was almost stepping over the line with this conversation.

"This is none of your business son." Adama muttered. He moved on down the report.

"But I think it might be." Lee took a deep breath and continued, "He said that you looked like you were losing sleep. And I wanted to ask why."

"I don't see how this is relevant." Adama glared up at him.

"Because I've been having these dreams…" Lee began.

Adama froze. Lee was affected to? Clearly, it was time to examine this problem more deeply. Someone was trying to use him to get to the Galactica and the Fleet.

1800 Hours

Chief Tyrol noticed that Adama was a bit slower in his reactions. As he walked toward the Hangar Deck, humming a tune he couldn't get out of his head. But the Admiral was not as spry, seeming to fall behind in the Galactica's own corridors. His distraction became infinitely clear when he made a wrong turn down a corridor going the opposite way from the Hangar Deck. The chief had to track him down.

"Admiral! Sir, we're going to the Hangar Deck! Why are you…?" Chief stopped jogging as he saw Adama freeze outside an armory. "Sir?"

"I'm sorry Chief, I got disoriented. I haven't been sleeping well lately," Adama shook his head and followed the chief back.

"I know what you mean, sir," Tyrol laughed trying to force humor on the situation. "Have this tune I can't get out of my head. Making it had to sleep at night."

Adama gave him a sideways glance, "Let's get to that Raptor, Chief."


	4. Which become your existence

1900 Hours

Laura slipped in quietly, unannounced, no aides, no guards. It was obvious this was not official business. Bill looked up, but did not speak. It was pointless to speak, Laura would spill all that she wanted to in her own precise time. She sat down opposite Bill, biding her time, measuring ways to begin.

"Admiral," Roslin intoned, softly, persistently.

"Laura, don't pretend this is a professional concern." Bill growled. His eyes flashed up from his work.

"Well…Bill…I am worried about the mental health of our Admiral. I believe that the fleet is only as strong as our leaders, and not only have you been ignoring my requests, but you have been lax in your duties with several other members of the fleet. "

"Laura," He finally looked her full in the face, "This is not any of your business. I am able to fulfill my duties perfectly well, and I ask you respect my privacy outside of that."

"Bill Adama, don't you date push me away," Roslin learned closer, her whisper fierce now, "You and I were finally working well together. Don't you dare pull back and start this game all over again. Now, I came here to fine out what I've done or how we can fix things. Because this childish method of handling whatever is endangering the safety of the fleet."

The Admiral stood up and moved back to his quarters, motioning for the President to follow. Out of habit, he walked over to mix himself a drink.

"Is that really the best idea?" Laura murmured.

Bill knew she hated being around alcohol and moved back to the couch. He intentionally sat next to Laura on the couch. She noticed this and arched one eyebrow. Bill settled back a bit and began his explanation.

2030 Hours

Laura Roslin was stunned into complete silence. She stood up and backed unsteadily to the door. Bill simply slumped tiredly against the couch.

"I… I don't…I don't know what to tell you, Bill," She opened the door, "I need to think about this. This is beyond any thing…I…I…I'll call you tomorrow."


	5. Once Played

2330 Hours

Bill Adama was lost to his dream. He was sealed for the final time in this dream-haunted sleep. His waking world would never be the same.

0200 Hours

Laura Roslin paced her room on Colonial One. She could not find peace in any place she landed. Even the scriptures provided no insight into the complex twist of Bill Adama's vision. She found herself gazing out the window of the Colonial One at the monolithic Galactica. A rock, indeed a fitting comparison for the ship. It was the surest anchor of the tattered remainder of humanity. And now the very anchor of Galactica, the core of their fragile system was being shaken by a power frighteningly outside of all control.

But Roslin knew in her deepest subconscious there was a solution. There was salvation for Adama. It would come at a very high cost. And that begged the question: How much was the President willing to risk to save humanity?

A/N: Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	6. In Harmony

A/N: One more chapter after this. Reviews are appreciated. I would like some feedback on my first BSG fic.

Disclaimer: RDM owns BSG, I do not.

Bill's eyes flooded with light. As his sight adjusted he heard the familiar sounds of laughter and playful shrieks. He knew what would happen when he opened his eyes. Lee would be toddling in front of him. Barely old enough to run, the four year old was all ready playing tag with her father. The singing laughter overscoring their chase flowed from Bill's heavily pregnant wife. She reclined in the shade on a cushioned chair, bursting with laughter every time the shrieking jet black head of her son bounced past.

Bill knew that they would lounge on the grass and play in the garden until the sun went down. And every night, Bill rolled in this amazing warm memory. Every night he felt further and further from Galactica and more and more lost in Caprica.

Bill could no longer resist the tiny cheers of his son, he opened his eyes.

The next segment of the dream was a few weeks later and another memory.

It was much darker now. They were in the bedroom of their house on Caprica. Lee was all ready asleep on the bed between Bill and his wife. Bill had never been so in love with anyone as he was with his wife at this moment.

Their new-born son, Zak sighed in his gentle infant sleep. Bill stared into the eyes of his wife, this woman who filled with a sense of awe. Everything about this moment, their family, gave him a fulfillment that made every moment outside of it ache with longing. Bill knew he would take the baby in his arms, even though it was like a hit of a heightening drug. Nothing could ever measure up to that feeling. And yet the baby was in his arms, even now. As the child blinked up at shim, peeping awake, Bill noticed the one thing that always shocked him. Zak had Laura's eyes.

And that was what always stabbed him. These two linked reveries were salvaged directly from moments in his memory. But there was one key change: Laura Roslin was his wife. Every night he closed his eyes only to be haunted by the radiant smile of the auburn haired president. He felt so completely happy and at peace. Being ripped out of that place morning after morning pushed him over the edge. Bill refused to wake up. He could not face a reality outside of this, trapped in the cold metal coffin of Galactica. He held on to the dream.

But someone was shaking him awake. He could hear laughter, voices talking in the waking world. He did not want to open his eyes. But Laura's voice broke in.

"Bill! Come on, old man! The family is here!" he felt a push on his shoulder. He opened his eyes back to the house on Caprica and his bed. Laura pushed him out of bed and walked down the stairs arm in arm with him. A table was spread below. Adama's mother was seated there, watching the revelry. Lee and Zak bounced a grandson around the living room. Kara was sitting on a chair nearby, talking with a teenaged auburn headed girl. Her sudden laughter confirmed her as Laura and Bill's daughter.

Bill couldn't stop himself. He began to cry, tears tickling down hi trench-scarred face. But no one seemed to notice. The party continued on well into the night.


	7. With God's Plan

A/N Last chapter! Reviews always appreciated!

Disclaimer: RDM owns BSG.

They had just finished dinner and put the baby to sleep. Suddenly, Bill felt that he was being shaken again. Someone was trying to wake him up. He fought it. Eventually, he could feel he was lashing out, until someone caught his hand and he woke up, flinging his arm one last time. He saw he struck Laura to the floor, but he didn't care.

"Why did you wake me up?" He roared. He began to mutter off strange laments, "This is the last time. I can't wake up anymore…" And he began digging through his belonging. Laura lay shocked on the floor, listening to his tirade. "First I lost Carol Ann, we were never the same. And I was so alone. And then we lost Zak and I hadn't seen him in months. And then I lost Caprica, and we can never go back. Now, Starbuck is gone, and we don't even know what happened and Lee and I have never had anything close to the relationship of my dream." Here he found what he was looking for: his sidearm.

He turned around to face Laura, now sitting terrified against the bed. Bill sat in a chair across the room staring at her, "And then, there's you." He sighed, cradling the revolver, "You make me feel more fulfilled, happier, than I have ever been before. And I've been an idiot and avoided it for so long, just out of fear. And now you're dying again." He put the gun up to his temple, "And I can't take this miserable life anymore." He whispered through a clenched grin, tears streaming from his eyes in reality now.

"Bill!" Laura whispered, getting her voice back. She was speaking in her negotiating tone, rapidly, as if running to keep pace with the Admiral's mind. "Bill, Bill, don't give up. Please don't leave humanity to fend without you. They would never make it. Bill, I would never make it. I so desperately need you. For a long time now, saving humanity hasn't been enough to pull me out of bed in the morning. Even I get tired and sick of it. But the thought of waking up to see you at some point during the day." Bill was slumped, sobbing on a table next to the chair, the pistol to the side. Laura scooted up to pull it away from him, and he did not resist. She slid the dangerously gleaming weapon under his rack. She crawled over and put her hand on his and clutched it desperately. "Bill, I cannot promise that we will ever come close to your dream. It's almost impossible for me to have a child. But I can promise this: I will love you and be with you and support you as long as I live. And Bill, we will find earth, and we will find peace as well. Don't stop trying yet, Bill."

With that, she gently pulled him toward the bed and just held him in her arms. His strong, muscled frame filled her arms as he shook with sobs. Eventually he fell asleep, a sleep without dreams. He was pulled from his sleep by the sound of sobbing. Looking over at his rescuer he saw her sitting up against the wall, knees to chest, crying as well. He put a hand on her knee and she startled, immediately wiping her eyes.

"Laura, we can't hold back now. We've come too far to start pulling back." Bill chided, quietly, moving to sit next to her against the wall.

Laura stared at him for a few moments and then looked ahead. She began an intensely angry whisper. "Bill Adama, it may shock you to know that you are not the only one to have lost a family. I lost my mother, my father, my sisters, all before the cylons came. And then, when they did, I lost Adar. And the one person I had left, Billy, the closest thing I had to family, was killed too. Despite all of that, seeing you put a gun to your head scared me more than you can imagine. Don't ever do that to me again, Bill Adama." Her last sentence was punctuated by her punching his arms as hard as she could. She kept punching as he turned to pull her into his arms. Eventually, she stopped punching, and relaxed into his arms, sniffling.

A/N I've wracked my brain for further material, but this was as far as I got. I can try to put together an additional epilogue/apotheosis, if you prefer. Give me your feed back either way!


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